


Fractured Biology

by starstruck1986



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-21
Updated: 2014-09-21
Packaged: 2018-02-18 07:09:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2339630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starstruck1986/pseuds/starstruck1986
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Severus finds himself indebted to a broken boy, and tied to him in the most awful way he can imagine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fractured Biology

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sexi_conejita](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=sexi_conejita).



**Warnings / Content:** Mentions of past torture  & non-con; male pregnancy, angst, EWE.  
 **Prompt:** _What could have been if Severs or Ron had been impregnated._  
  
  
Ron didn't know whether he felt more tired, nauseous or upset. All three applied, he just wasn't sure which was vying for top spot. With his mother's clock ticking away the minutes in the hallway, he wrapped his arms around his torso and held on. He would wear a path in the already-worn living room carpet if he wasn't careful. To change things up, he stepped out into the hall and looked at the clock. All hands pointed where they should.  
  
Or, at the very least, they pointed truthfully.  
  
He kept his eyes trained on the swinging pendulum until sick actually rose in the back of his throat. _Bad idea._  
  
He turned and went into the kitchen. He walked a few laps of the kitchen table and eventually leaned against the worktop. Everything was sore. His arms, legs – everything which was supported by bone ached. His muscles felt like lead. The taste of vomit in his mouth was replaced by a metallic tang which in turn made him feel even more sick. Groaning, he tipped his face into his hands and inhaled. It was no use fighting the moisture growing in his eyes any more. What was the point? What would being stoic do for him?  
  
 _It got you in enough fucking trouble to begin with._  
  
So much had happened in the last few years. Apparent victory. An almighty fall from grace. Long days spent having the life beaten out of him, longer days being left to sob in the dark. And then, light. Recovery. Comfort. Just long enough for him to believe he was safe and then, bang, back in the black, back to hell, back to fighting to breathe. It was his own stupidity that had seen him recaptured. At least, that's what Ron believed. Others felt differently. He couldn't bear to listen to their arguments. Either way, that second time had been different. He was kept with a purpose and when it was fulfilled, he realised none of what had gone before had been horror. _This_ was horror. He might be back with the paltry remains of his loved ones, but the damage was done. Rescue came, but arrived too late.  
  
As it often did when he thought about it all, his hand drifted down to his stomach. Flat, for now. Not for long, the Healers had said, in muted, pitying tones. He wasn't the only one. There would be a succession of men, forced to bear what nature had deemed they shouldn't. Impregnated by those they loathed.  
  
Except, in his case, Ron didn't exactly loathe the man who's seed had been forced upon him. He tolerated him. Licking his lips, Ron's mind caught up with his fingers as they scooped a handful of Floo Powder out of the pot. It was brimming. No need to worry about money now or ever again, it seemed. He would never get used to that, he was sure.  
  
First he brought the fire to life and then threw the emerald dust upon the flames. He stepped in and whispered his destination. He only hoped it would be open to him on arrival.  
  


* * *

  
  
"Can I come in?"  
  
Severus jerked awake to the request delivered in a meek tone. He blinked stupidly at the fireplace for a good while before placing the voice and the person requesting entrance to his living room. At three in the morning. Unable to get his voice going, he beckoned with his hand and struggled upright. He coughed into his hand; his eyes filled at the pain in his throat. He swiftly wiped away the escaping tears and forced himself into full consciousness.  
  
Ronald Weasley stood on the rug before the hearth, awkward and young. Misery was etched in his expression, exhaustion in the deep purple rings beneath his eyes and the pallor of his skin. Severus wasn't surprised. He'd barely taken the news any better, and he wasn't the one pregnant. He rubbed at his nose and straightened his spine. Ron winced at the crunching sounds he made as he moved. Severus shook his head and patted the seat next to him. Ron crossed the living room and sat down, almost prim in stature. Severus had seen him so debased it was laughable to see his attempted bodily discipline.  
  
“Can't sleep?” he asked, desperately trying to clear his head.  
“No.” Ron looked down at his lap.  
“I'd only just dropped off myself.”  
“I'm a horrible person when I don't sleep,” Ron commented blandly.  
“You and me both,” Severus muttered in response. He stifled a yawn.  
“This poor kid.” Ron laughed a humourless laugh.  
  
Severus looked at him. Pale, freckled skin bore the signs of torment. He remembered it well. How he'd ended up next to Weasley had escaped him, but their wretchedness became shared somewhere along the line. He had already nearly been broken once. Severus had been part of the team which had taken the first hostages out. He never dreamed that he'd be one of them, though looking back this felt idiotic. Of course he would be a target. He was a traitor to them.  
  
He'd also forgotten just how easily bonds were abused by those who held them. He now knew Ronald Weasley intimately in every excruciating way, and they were bound together forever. Not just because of the child growing in the redhead's belly. The Debtor's Bond was enough. Suddenly it was too much to look at the nineteen-year-old and know that it should have been Severus sitting there, knocked up, feeling so at odds with himself, terrified of his own fractured biology.  
  
Severus had always considered Ron to be overly mouthy and hot-tempered. That had been proved when Ron had managed to goad their audience. Extra humiliation had been ordered and their coupling should have been reversed. Neither of them knew the water they'd been provided with – the only water they'd seen in days – had been drugged. Severus loathed himself for missing it. Only afterwards did the peppery hint make sense, once they'd started cackling at them, unable to keep in their joy. And it had nearly been him. So, with the brief feelings of mixed guilt and relief, a bond had been forged. Severus was in debt to Ron, and therefore he could not walk away from the boy. Would not.  
  
Impulsively his hand rose and placed itself against the flat of Ron's stomach. There was no curve there yet, no hint of what was growing within. The pregnancy had already been awful; it could only get worse and, Severus hated to acknowledge, might even kill the young wizard who housed it. Guilt tore at him from all sides.  
  
He could only put his next move down to distress – perhaps he was still asleep and all of it a terrible nightmare. He felt the denim grain of Ron's jeans pressing into his forehead. Frozen in place, he kept his face there, not wanting to sit up and face reality. He started when gentle fingers crept into his hair and began to stroke. Over and over they caressed him. Severus couldn't remember anybody ever stroking his hair before.  
  
“I don't blame you, y'know...” Ron's voice was quiet. The stroking continued. “It could have been the other way and it wasn't. I opened my big gob and...” Severus heard a huge intake of air and waited for Ron to continue.  
  
When he didn't, Severus finally found the courage to pry his face out of hiding and look at his companion. Silent tears ran down Ron's cheeks as he looked resolutely away.  
  
Severus had never had the chance to be an affectionate man. Any desire to be so had been ripped from him in his late teens, and he'd never bothered to seek it out since. That was not to say he had been celibate, but there had been no warmth, no sweetness to any of his unions.  
  
The burgeoning want therefore caught him off guard. His arms had taken Ron into their possession before he really understood what he was doing. He was murmuring softly into thick, glorious red hair.  
  
His throat tight, his body screaming, he whispered, “You are not alone. I've got you.”  
  
 _-fin-_


End file.
